All Guts, No Glory
by Bolinlover123
Summary: Food was fuel, and fuel was life. Bolin knew this all too well. So what was wrong with him lately? Trigger Warning: Eating Disorder fic.
1. Food For Thought

_I wrote this just because I thought I really needed to, for myself, personally. It was kind of like a cleanser for me to get some emotions out. I know I have done something of the similar idea in 'Fleash, Blood, and Bone' which I shall continue once I get more time, and my work load is a bit lessened._

_This little one-shot was kinda of like a little douse of medicine for me, and while some people run as a stress reliever, or paint, I write. _

_I do not have an eating disorder, but have had some failed attempts with it, so I can relate to this, somewhat. Please do not worry about me; I am fine! :) ...mostly._

_I don't know why I identify with Bolin so much, and I am sorry if I bore people with my single character POV. I know I should try to expand my characters, but with Bolin, I feel I can most relate._

_Don't know where this is going, but would make me very happy if you would comment._

* * *

.

I.

The first time it happens, it's an accident . He's ten and hasn't had anything to eat, so much as a piece of bread, in what feels like forever. He's slumped against the alley wall, nearly in a half-alive state from the hunger pains, and all he knows is that when Mako comes back, smiling, with a loaf of crusty bread, a bag of dumplings, and some fruit, it makes him alive again. He takes his share of everything( or maybe more, he doesn't care enough to comment) and stuffs himself so much, he barely has enough room to breathe. After a minute, it feels _wrong. _His stomach protests, his throat burns, and the ground is painted in the grays, browns, reds, and greens, of what was once so good.

He promises himself it he wont waste food ever again.

II.

The second time it happens, it's a reward gone sour. He's thirteen, they have a roof over their heads, and all the money he got from his bet from his _good feeling, _is transformed into something that is so warm, and gooey, and _ohhh, Mako, taste this soup, it's so creamy, and, gosh, don't these dumplings taste just like Mom used to make?_ Mako's finished, and looking quite full (he's always been a picky eater) but he's still stuffing the next four- no six- meat-filled dumplings into his grease-stained lips, slurping his next bowl of soup with the etiquette of a poor boy struck rich. He doesn't stop when Mako groans that he's making a mess, or complains that_ two bowls of soup is enough, by Agni, Bolin,_ or even when a little bit comes back in a belch of hot tufu. No, he doesn't stop until his knees slam down on the cold tile floor, and the toilet steals away every _good feeling_ he had an hour ago.

He learns to chew and swallow after that.

III.

The third time it happens, it's a broken heart's remedy. He's sixteen, embarrassed and betrayed into his _who knows how many? _bowl of what may or may not be sake-cooked noodles, and he really doesn't see himself stopping any time soon. If Mako can put his lips into Korra's mouth, well, then, he he can do the same with their savings. Really, it's only fair. It's only after that _brother betrayer _comes and drags him home, do the pains of anger, and resentment, and hurt start to fade, and the ach of _too much too much _start to fill his gut. This time, as he slams his knees onto the cold tiled floor, the toilet stealing away his heart break, at least he gets the to keep the memory that, for a little while, they got to share those noodles together.

He knows, at least, it won't happen again. Third time's the charm.

IV.

The forth time it happens, it's nearly a year later, and he's had the _biggest knockout in Probending history!_ as an excuse (or at least that's what he tells himself) for breaking open the second bag of pau buns. The sweet cabbages fills his mouth, and his resolve crumbles (crumbles like the rocks he is so bad at bending) into another another crunch of fire flacks. Mako is a slowly rising cop, his smug face printed on the front covers of the Newspaper for the whole City to see, while his own defeat is talked about on the radio like Tuesday night gossip.

The radio cracks and pops with static, a hissing nose droning in the room. _Well, by golly, that Mako's got more moxy than ever these days, busting down Triads like it's his job! And what do'ya know? It is! I'd say he's on fire, wouldn't you, Yumi? _The female host's voice comes through the soundwaves, after a little giggle, _oh, yes, Shiro, I agree! He should have quit the Fire Ferrets sooner! And speaking of Fire Ferrets...-_

The radio turns off with a push of Pabu's paw, and the little furry creature wines. He jumps on the table, nearly knocking over his glass of lee-chi juice, whose contents he is still trying to dabble of his chin and shirt front. He's acting like a slob, and he doesn't care, no, no. He looks at the messy table, the crumpled box of fire flacks, the empty plate that he doesn't even remember using, among others. It's not like he needs to work out anymore; his training days are over. It's only after about ten minutes later, the second bag of buns swimming in his gullet, does it start to _hurt. _His stomach roles, and heaves with a coherent groan, and he clamps a hand over his mouth.

He's in the bathroom, before he even has time to remember how he got there. This time, it's by his own choice. His gut is moaning, and he feels like a _balloon/mountain/is going to BURST_ and no, no, he can't have that, can't that, _too much fat._ His fingers are jammed into the back of his throat like a puppet on a string, pressing painfully to that little wobbly thing that hangs there (what's that thing called again?) and it's like the floodgates are opened. The mushy green of the cabbages, the dough, the powdery red of the flacks all come back up stream and in a burning acid cocktail. It makes horrible _splash/splash/splash _as they hit the water, and the smell and sight are enough to make his gut tremble once more. He grips the seat, his temple sweating, and waits for it to be over.

Outside, the apartment door opens with a call from his brother that he's home.

His voice is raspy as he respond, "B-be...be out in a minute." He flushes, washes his face, hands, shirt, brushes and gargles like there's no tomorrow.

He thinks it's the first time when he tastes doubt. It taste like guts. All guts, and no glory.

V.

The fifth time it happens, it's two months later, and he's_ Nuktuk of the South!_ but really, he's Bolin, and he really doesn't want to be. Mako thinks he needs to figure it out himself, (_whatever that is_) the girls are too busy, Ginger thinks he dumb, and Varrick thinks he needs to get this scene right so they all call it a day and go home. He thinks he has this down pat-he remembered all his lines, right? But, no, Varrick says it needs something more, more_ Pizzas! Passion! This is your girlfriend's life we're talking about here!_

In the end, the scene is declared done for now, and shall be salvaged tomorrow. He doesn't know what he did wrong? Did he forget to do something, carry Ginger incorrectly?

The crew members are going out to dinner, and he tells for them to _wait, hold up!_ as he ties his sash around his waist. But a guy ( he doesn't remember his name) makes a face and says, '_sorry, but unless you're willing to pay for your own food, you can't come. With the way you eat, I'd like to stay out of debt. _He feels his face, heart, and stomach fall all at once. A few others laugh, but someone chides him, _Chan, dude, that was harsh._ Chan makes a '_so what_' face, and shrugs, _no, it's not. You don't have to have lunch with him._

He runs away before he can hear the rest of the conversation.

He eats their insults up. Eats and eats and eats until he meets the cold tiled floor, and the toilet steals it away.

He thinks for the first time, that maybe, he has a problem.

VI.

The sixth time it happens, it's a few weeks later, he has his own apartment, and he gets caught. Or more so, questioned.

Mako is coming out of his bedroom with a confused/angry/_what the hell are these?_ expression on his face. And that's basically what he says, while holding the bottle of laxatives in his hand like it's some kind of bomb.

He's sitting on the couch, petting Pabu, when Mako asks him the question, and all he can do is stare wide-eyed as Mako's gaze hardens, and the silence grows more loud.

"Bolin, I asked you a question," Mako shakes the bottle right in his face, "What are these?"

"Um..." he curses himself for not hiding them better, "Laxatives...?"

Mako sputters, "I_ know_ that, Bolin! I meant, why do you have them?"

He goes with his gut, and remembers the glory. He _acts. _"My stomach's been hurting recently. You know, nerves from all the acting and getting the lines right. Butterflies. And I think I may be lactose intolerant."

"You eat diary all the time. We always have milk, and cheese and stuff," Mako says.

"Yeah, well..." he looks at his brother, holding his stomach for affect, "I've noticed that when I eat stuff like that now, it really upsets it. Like, it makes me have to go to the bathroom and stuff alot..." Spirit's this was awkward, "So, I, um, started using them, and they help!" he smiles, "No big deal, bro!"

He prays his brother will believe the lie, but Mako doesn't look convinced. "You have milk in your fridge, though."

"I've been testing myself." he scratches the back of his head, desperately thinking of a new topic, "I think that stuff's the culprit. _Anyway!_ So tell me how your day was, Mr. Policeman!"

Mako looks at him, then back at the bottle for a moment, the pieces of a supposed crime solving itself in his head.

"Then why were they under your socks in your drawer," he says slowly, "and not in the bathroom?"

_Shit._ "Bro, I just bought them, and was putting stuff away, and I must have put in there by accident, okay? I don't know!" he troughs up his hands in surrender, "I'm not a very organized person- arrest me, why don't you?"

Mako just looks at him once last time, and grumbles something. He can see it in the firebender's eyes that he _wants_ to believe this, but he doesn't.

"Promise?" Mako asks.

His heart is beating in his chest. Mako needs to leave_ like right now_ so he can erase all the bad feelings and puke. "I promise." _Please leave._

_"_..Okay." Mako says finally, setting the bottle down, "I better get going."

"Yeah, you don't wanna be late for your night shift," _Finally._

Mako's halfway out the door, when he stops, turns half way around and starts saying, "You've been loosing some..."but he shakes his head, and his sentence seems to die off.

He gulps, "W-what, bro?"

"N-nothing..." but he seems troubled, "see ya, bro. Night."

"Night."

As soon as the door closes, he attacks the cabinets:

Eat/Laxatives/ Puke/Rinse/Repeat.

Until he can't anymore. Until the toilet shows him _red._ Red, and foamy crimson.

He falls to the floor. His throat is on fire, vision growing dark.

The last time it happens, he _knows_ it won't ever happen again.

All guts. _Too many_ guts.

He was never meant to shine that bright anyway. Death tastes like all guts, and no glory.

* * *

_*Ahem*_

_So...yeah..._

_I don't really know what this piece of crap was. Was really rushed, and more so as a stress-reviler kind of thing. _

_*Hits self on the head* I don't even know. So, tell me what'cha think, I guess._


	2. Taste of Denial

_Note: Trying a different style for this prompt. AKA is gonna be straight forward, if you know what I mean._

_For those of you whom encouraged me to continue this one shot, hope you guys like it._

_Btw- this is gonna be a couple of chapter-like one-shots. So...please follow the story if you wish; this isn't the ending just yet ;) More is to come._

* * *

_1.00 Ib_

The first time Mako realizes the truth, he's calling himself an_ idiot,_ once he arrives to his apartment door, only to find a lack of key in his pocket. Or his other pocket. Or either of his shoes. He curses himself- Beifong will have his_ head_ if he's late, and his_ lovely_ partners are sure to have supportive comments- and jumps back on his motorcycle, to his brother's place where it will surely be mockingly sitting on the table.

(It's kinda funny, he thinks to himself. He used to be so much more organized with Bolin around. He always thought that whenever they got the old enough to go their separate ways, wherever he'd be living by that point would be so spotless, dirt would faint in the presence of his cleanliness. Eight years living in filth and poverty gives you a control-freak sense of tidiness. Now he keeps putting cartons away with the wrong sized tops, and his socks are _never_ where he put them. But, at least he doesn't put laxatives in with his underwear...-

_Huh._

His feet slam so hard on the brakes that the rubber leaves skid marks three feet long across the pavement.

He's been in denial, he tells himself. He's never been very good at hitting pain head-on. Because frankly, he sucks at emotions anyway. He kinda hoped this was just a phase/he was wrong/seeing things/_no,way, big bro, I'm fine don'tworryaboutme ;)_

_Shit. _'Lactose Intolerance' his ass. Working out at two in the morning? They had done that plenty of times in the gym when they were still living at the arena. Mako thought nothing of it at the time, really. His brother's always been a-wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night person; insomnia was like a friend to both of them. So he chalked it up to his brother doing-what-his-brother-does. And when he caught Bolin puking for the third night in a row after dinner, he stupidly believed it was just a stomach bug/spoiled veggies_/just gotta lay down for a bit, bro, no worries._

Because Bolin would never lie to him, and everything was fine. They're was absolutely no reason for anything _not_ to be fine, now, right? They were off the streets, and Amon was gone.

_Peachy Keen._

He tells himself he's a _fucking idiot_ and a horrible brother. Like, really. He deserves an award for his ignorance.

He slams his foot on the accelerator, and speeds down the streets.

He learns not to be so blind, after that. His powers of deduction are _truly_ impressive.

2.00 Ib

The second time Mako realizes the truth, it's painfully laid out in front of him on the bathroom floor. He had come right into the apartment, calling his brother's name and asking for his keys. Whie-trying-not-to-freak-out.

The first sign of something wrong was how the kitchen looked like a tornado had ran through it. Mako crept along broken plates and the floor covered in what looked more like confetti than chip crumbs. The second was the horrible moaning from the bathroom. Mako's heart stopped, than exploded all at once as he made a full out sprint to the bathroom.

_Promise?_

_..._

_I promise._

The third is his brother's slumped figure against the toilet, with red dripping from his mouth and onto his shirt front like river.

His vision dances between the present moment, and eleven years ago. He is nineteen/eight/nineteen/eight and blood still looks like blood no matter what the situation. Laxatives are like bombs, littered around the floor in broken, explosive pieces. His brother is the detonator, and has already exploded.

Mako's throat tries to yell his name, but is ice/frozen. All he gets out are inaudible, jumbled breathes and wheezes.

He stumbles, his muscles going slack as he leans against the door jam.

_One. Two. Three._

_Breathe._

He closes his eyes. Opens them. He curses, and is sprinting to the phone before he realizes he's even moved.

He's screaming at the paramedics or whoever one the other end is supposed to deal with this kind of shit to, _please come quick, my brother needs help, please hurry!_

_Ohdearspirits...Ohdearspirtsplease!_

Somewhere in his panic, he manages to recite the address and the situation. Then he's cradling his brother's head against his chest; his blood is staining his hands and Mako counts his shallow breathes.

He counts them for every time he saw, but chose to be blind.

_"I'm so sorry, Bo."_

* * *

_-1.00 Ib_

He realizes that he must not be dead, because his breathing-however painful- is quite evident. As are the persistent beeps in the background of his fuzzy mind, and an equally persistent grip on his hand that starts to become sharper every time he blinks.

His first thought is that he is not dead... that being alive is a good thing.

His second thought is a panicking, nearly paralyzing conglomeration of fear and guilt that the hold on his hand belongs to a person, whom must belong to his brother.

When he tries to move his head, a shooting pain in his throat makes him unleash an ugly groan. He blinks a few more times, and the firebender is sitting on a chair beside him; his posture rigid and his face buried in his other hand.

Bolin says Mako's name, voice hoarse and raspy like he's forgotten how to use it. The beeping—now accelerating slightly due to his panicking, and the sure amount of lying he is about to do—doesn't seem to faze the elder boy. Mako looks up at his call; his ember eyes are strangely red-rimmed and bright as he stares at back at Bolin.

It's midday, and if the sun streaming through the grubby windows is anything to go by, than Mako clearly hasn't slept a wink.

"Bolin," he acknowledges, surreptitiously rubbing at his eyes (as if he thinks he won't notice) before crossing the short distance to the bed. "How're..." Mako stops and licks his lips. Something flashes across his face-_pain_, Bolin thinks, but he quickly hides it. "H-how're you feeling?"

"I've told you, I'm fine. Just a stomach bug," is the automatic response; like acting. Though both of them know it's a lie. Neither brother presses the issue. _Memorize it! Memorize the lines until they become a part of you!_

"Right—well, it's-," Mako sniffs and rubs his face again. His eyes flick to the tubes and machines on the left that are all hooked up to him, and then back to his face. "...it's good to see you sleeping again, at least," Mako says, hesitating before patting him on the shoulder awkwardly, as if fearing he might break. "You need anything, let me know, yeah? Just rest up for a while."

Bolin tells himself he's a really good actor. That Mako is just that oblivious. But he knows Mako is in denial.

Part of him doesn't mind, though. Denial makes the lies easier. Makes them seem almost justified, even. _Besides,_ Bolin thinks,_ Mako hates me now, anyway. What's the point of getting in a fight? I'm a horrible brother and he's never gonna wanna see me again with all the trouble I've caused._

"Bo?"

He looks up. "Yeah," He agrees easily enough, because he's too wore out and worn down to protest, and the elder nods jerkily, stepping toward the bathroom. Bolin is filled with an envy as he watches Mako close the door behind him. How his brother can go into that room freely; how the toilet can just be a toilet and not whisper little taunts in his ear day in and day out. Mako's knees have never bleed from slamming down on the floor so fast and hard; Mako's never had to go a day without eating, just to prove them all wrong.

Mako is perfect.

Bolin strains his ears, and the quiet, ragged sounds of sobbing come from the other side. But Mako hasn't cried since-...Bolin cannot even remember. Maybe sometimes, late at night, face buried in a red scarf-but _why now_? He just had a stomach bug; it's not like it means anything. He didn't have to come to the friggin' _hospital._ He'll be fine tomorrow.

Maok was being so overdramatic. So, what, the stupid laxatives had been one too many. Maybe he hadn't drank enough water before he puked. Big deal. He was fine. Better than fine.

He was _fine. _

The handle on the door starts turning, and Bolin instantly flips his body the other way, failing to be inconspicuous.

He blurts the sentence out without even thinking. "You're way overreacting."

Mako freezes, and looks at him. When Bolin meets his eyes, the ember in them is flickering, speckled with agony. Bolin has only seen them like that once before, but he'll rarely let himself remember the details of that night.

"...What?"

"You took me to the hospital, because I got some cold or something. That's crazy, Mako. Can we just find someone to let us leave?" He states. If he has to stay in this bed for another second he is going to _freak._ "I wanna go home."

He needs to go home and erase all this from his mind. Mako is looking at him-his face switching from shock, to hurt, to anger, to...he doesn't even know. But he's _hungry._ He's so friggin' damn hungry, and all he knows is that he doesn't deserve to eat, or deserve anything right now and-

Mako is crossing the room to him now, and as he sits at the side of his bed, he takes Bolin's hand in his own and squeezes.

"Listen to me." Mako says softly, yet a fire burns behind his eyes. One that Bolin does not dare to mess with. "It's gonna be _okay_. But, we're not going home yet. We-..." And Mako does that thing with his face again. He grimaces, whipping a hand across his mouth and closes his eyes tightly.

_"Spirits, Bolin..."_

Bolin yanks his hand away roughly, and Mako snaps open his eyes. "What do you mean where 'not going home'? Get me out of this bed!_ I'm fine!_ I fine, and you-you're _crazy_ is what you are! You-" A bitter round of coughing cuts him off. His chest heaves, but air fights to go into his lugs. The back of his throat feels like it's disintegrating and he grips the bed sheets in his fingers._ "Gahhh..."_

_"_Bo? _Bo!_" Mako is yelling his name, fingers rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"M-mak-! _Nihhgg!" _The words die in his throat, as he sucks down air, and swallows back bile.

"_Breathe,_ bro, it's okay..." Panic that is barely being contained drips from his voice. Bolin can see Mako's eyes getting blurry again. "Take it easy..." Then he is getting up, and opening up door, he's shouting for,_ a nurse, anyone, please! Nurse!_

By the time he's able to breathe again, it's moments later, and a plump, middle-aged woman comes quickly into the room. She pushes some buttons and changes some tubes, and his chest feels a little less heavy. She's saying some words that sound comforting, but all he focuses on is Mako's face.

"Bolin?"

_"What?"_ He doesn't mean to snap at his brother, but really, he's so angry, and confused, and they were blowing everything out of proportion.

And he was _fine._ He really was. He's never been better.

"...It's called _'Bulimia Nervosa'_" the Nurse is telling Mako. He watches Mako's eyes get wide, then crinkly and he nods every so often. "It's usually related with some degree of depression, and is caused when the person 'binges' or eats themselves sick, so much that they force themselves to vomit. The sufferer vomits to relieve themselves of their pain and negative feelings, so to speak." She looks sadly at Bolin for a moment. He glares at her, then Mako both, before turning away again.

"But these coping mechanisms are _very unhealthy_," she is speaking to both of them now. "If they go untreated, then can lead to very severe complications, and even death." She pauses, and lets that sink in, as if it'll make a difference. "It's important for people going through these types of experiences to know they aren't alone. Which is why I recommend a support group," Bolin sees out of the corner of his vision, the lady hand Mako a few pamphlets, and some papers. Mako's mouth opens and closes like a koi-fish. He takes the papers, and looks at them for a moment as if he doesn't know what to do with them. He tells the lady thank you.

"Now, Bolin..." He looks up, or more so gives them a sideways glare. Because yes, he's a very optimistic and open guy, but if there is one pet peeve he has, it's stuck up doctors who have no idea what they're talking about, who just want your money. Just like this mook. "Have you been experiencing any negative feelings lately?" She asks the question as if she already knew the answer. "Tell us how you've been feeling."

Bolin looks at her, and made a painfully obvious force not to look at his brother. "I'm fine." He said.

The nurse sighs. "That's not what your brother Mako thinks." She gestured to the elder, who peaked is eyes up from the floor to look mournfully back at him. Bolin could practically _feel_ the blame seeping from his brother; he knew Mako blamed himself for this, which was all the more reason why Bolin hated himself. "Nor that I think." She sat down slowly on the chair, and crossed her legs. "Why do you think you're here right now, Bolin?" Her voice was sincere and full of sympathy. "Why do you think Mako brought you here, if it were not out of concern? Do you remember anything of last night?"

What _didn't_ he remember from last night? He had been puking his guts out, needing to feel something-anything- other than..._worthless, pathetic...him._ If he were being honest with himself, a part of him wouldn't have cared if he had died, wouldn't have thought anyone else would care. At least then he wouldn't feel anything and Mako wouldn't have to care for him anymore.

"I'm fine." He said again.

_"Bolin..."_

Bolin's never heard Mako say his name like that, in such a pained way. He makes himself meet his brother's eyes now.

"You're _not_ fine, Bo. Just tell the nurse how you're feeling, bro. _Please."_ And damn it, his voice cracks a little. "You- you almost died!" In one second, Mako is crossing the room, and yelling. Anger is in his eyes like never before, and Bolin thinks Mako might actually hit him. "You almost fucking killed yourself, so don't fucking tell me you're fine! That a load of _bullshit!"_ Bolin draws back when fire licks Mako's tongue.

"Mako." The nurse starts. "Yelling is not going to help-"

"How long have you been doing this?" Mako practically yells. Bolin shrinks away now, melting into the pillows. Tears blur his eyes, then start falling down his cheeks. Bolin whimpers, but Mako continues, oblivious in his anger. "I can't believe you're killing yourself with this! I mean, how-"

"I can't believe it took you this long to notice!" The words are hot and merciless, but true nonetheless. Bolin almost smiles as Mako's lips tremble. It's like when he fell, he took Mako down with him. _Good._ Mako deserves it. Since when has Mako ever cared about how he feels?

Mako just sucks in a pained breath, and turns away. He's keeps going until he's out the door, and it's slamming back in an echo. Bolin hears his feet running down the hall. He almost smiles.

Beside him, the nurse is frowning and shaking her head. She tells him to rest, and she'll be back in a little bit to talk about 'recovery'.

Pft. As if he has a 'problem'.

He's_ fine_. He's always been fine.

Only now he's not so sure.

* * *

_Thanks, guys! More will be up soon._

_Please tell me what you think. If they were in character given the situation, and ideas for the future, ect..._


	3. The Cake is a Lie

They tell him he has a problem, and on the inside he scoffs at them and hides his eye rolls. If that statement is true, then maybe they should dope up all the orphans in the city and treat them, too. Malnourishment falls along the lines of 'food problems' right?

The nurse gives Mako some prescriptions for antidepressants, to which he yells that he is _not depressed!_ and she asks Mako to sign _here_ and _here_ and _here._

Mako has not looked at him, let alone said two words to him since their argument last night when he stormed out of the room. He groans and rolls over, facing the wall. If Mako and the nurse exchange looks of concern, well, it's not like he cares anyway.

They give him choices. To move back in with Mako, so he can help him 'get better', or go the support group, locked away in a home for crazy kids.

"You can't be serious. This is a joke, right?" He asks them. His eyes get wide and he ignores the taste of bile rising up in his throat.

Mako's voice is gruff when he finally speaks. He still doesn't look at him, though. "This is your health and wellbeing, Bolin. We are being completely serious."

He scoffs. "No way. I'm not moving in with you. It's your fault I'm here in the first place. " Bolin sees the hurt cross Mako's face at that. But his brother quickly regains his composure and goes back into 'no-nonsence mode.''

"Well, then," the nurse begins, "I'll leave you to go through the pamphlet on the group home. I'm sure-"

_"No!" _he practically snarls. Mako and the nurse jump. Even he is surprised by the venom in his voice. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going back to my apartment. I-"

"Young man." The nurse's voice now matches his tone. It's the kind that says, 'if you don't respect me, don't expect me to coddle you'. She looks him right in the eyes. "I have many more patients to attend to. If you are just going to bicker back and forth with me in your denial, then you are wasting my time. I will give you one more hour to decide your course of action with your brother, before I will have to send you on your way."

With that, the door closes as she disappears behind it.

The silence in room is sickening as the brother's stare at each other. Mako breaks first. His voice sounds like it's wet from trying to swallow down his emotions. "Do you really hate yourself that much?"

_You have no idea._

"I'm not depressed, Mako. I promise it won't happen again, okay?" He fidgets in the bed, and troughs the covers off. It's too _hot/hot/hot_ all of a sudden. His vision swims with red, and down the hall, he hears a toilet flush, and he doesn't realize his eyes are closed and that he's shaking, until he feels Mako gripping his shoulders.

"Bo? Hey, Bo, you with me?" His eyes snap open and he see's Mako's concerned face right in front of him, his ember eyes searching Bolin's for something.

"I-I-I..." He swallows. Why was he shaking so much? What was he so afraid of? _Flush. Flush. _The hiss of the sink water running; a rustle of paper. A door slamming closed down the hall.

"I...I don't know..." His head is turning back and forth frantically is his hands, as if trying to shake the pain away. "I can't..._stop it..."_

Mako sits down slowly on the edge of the bed. He puts his hand on Bolin's shoulder, then the other when Bolin doesn't flinch away.

"What can't you stop?" He asks gently.

Maybe, Bolin thinks, he's just going crazy. Maybe he is crazy already. Crazy people don't normally know they're crazy, right? Crazy people find comfort in doing crazy things, and like toilets and blood better than spending time with people. Maybe, Maybe-

_"Bo."_

He takes a deep, wheezing inhale, and snaps his open again. "I- don't...know." He gasps. Why are his cheeks wet? Why- is he crying? No- "I didn't mean to do it! I swear! I just wanted it to stop hurting and- and- and..." He's panting now, and Mako's eye are wide, "I-I thought I could handle it, but I_ couldn't,_ and I'm sor-"

He is stopped by a pair of arms locking around him and forcing him into a strong, familiar embrace. His wet cheeks meet the warm heartbeat of Mako's chest.

The _flush/flush/flush/_ is slowly transforming to _thump/thump/thump_ under Mako's shirt and he's stopped shaking now, and Mako's fingers are pushing his sweaty locks back from his forehead.

"I'm sorry it took me this long to notice you needed me." Mako's breath is hot and fierce in his ear. "I wasn't there when you were hurting and you almost died because of it." Mako's breath hitches in his throat, and Bolin goes cold. "I promise it won't happen again."

Bolin grips Mako's shirt, his head tucking in his arms. "It wasn't your fault. I made a huge effort to try and hide it from everyone. You can't blame yourself for-"

"But it is my fault! You-!"

Bolin lets out a long, weary sigh. He's too tired for this. Too tired for anything, really. "Can we both just agree that it was both out faults, and leave it at that? Please? I'm too tired to feel anymore guilty."

He feels Mako's head shake up and down in a nod.

"Bo?" Mako's voice is just above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"You're moving back in with me."

"I..." And Bolin thinks, maybe that is the best thing for now. Even though he doesn't have a problem or anything. Even though he is fine/not fine. Maybe Mako can make the hurt a little less- even if he doesn't know what the hurt is. Maybe Mako's bathroom and toilet won't be so mean with Mako there. "I...I'm scared, Mako."

"I know. But we'll get through this mess together, okay?" He's looking up at Mako now, whipping his face free of tears.

"What if it's me?" He asks. He doesn't even know why. The words just come out suddenly.

"Huh?"

"What if...I'm...the, ya know. The mess?" He looks away now, at the floor. "I don't know if I can do this, Mako."

Mako takes a moment to respond. "Well, then, I'm not going anywhere, either way, bro. I'm here for you."

Bolin looks at Mako now, takes in his full face for the first time since he's been here. Mako looks a little less tired now, a little more hopeful.

"I love you, little bro."

"I love you back, big bro."

For right now, Bolin thinks, it's good enough. He'll please Mako. He'll do what he wants, make him happy. He is an actor, after all. Because while the hurt fucking hurts and he's a disappointment with no hopes for redemption, he can be tricky. What Mako doesn't see, won't hurt him. He knows he should probably care that he almost died, but he doesn't really have the energy to.

He has a plan B. He always has a plan B.

* * *

It's the next evening, and all his stuff has managed to fit back into place in his old room like it never left. He wants a separate room, and a separate bathroom for some privacy. Mako's presence is suffocating now, like he can't breathe, and every time he takes a step, Mako inches closer like he's afraid he'll pass out. And, like, for agni's sake, it's the middle of the summer, so it's hot, so he drinks water. Water makes pee, Mako! Like, how hard was that for his brother to understand? Why did he have to leave the freaking door open every time he had to pee? His brother could clearly hear it!

"Bro."

Mako looks up as he comes out of the bathroom, as if he wasn't just leaning his ear against the door, listening in.

"Yeah?"

"Could you tone it down a notch, please?" _Like, seriously._

"Huh?" Mako blinks. Jeez, he honestly looks like he doesn't understand.

Bolin takes a tentative seat down on the couch. "I mean, you're kinda smothering me."

Mako whips out a cooking pan. Bolin tries not to cringe. "It's only been one day, Bolin."

"Exactly."

Mako sighs. He heats the stove up with his fire. The eggs pop and hiss as they fry up with the sauce. Bolin turns his head away. It's not like he's going to eat it or anything.

He stands up instantly. "I'm going for a walk."

Mako zips around. "What?"

"I said I'm-"

"No, you're not. Sit down! Dinner's almost ready."

Bolin grabs his wallet and bus pass. "I agreed to move back in with you. I didn't agree for you to be my personal chief."

_"Bolin-!"_

The door slamming shut drowns out his brother's yells. He half expects Mako to chase him down the hall and force-feed him. He's almost an adult. He can do what he wants.

Bolin doesn't sleep that night. Instead of going back to Mako's apartment, he goes down to the bottom level of the building, into the gym. It's two in the morning, and is dark and closed, but he picks the lock with the skills of a practiced street rat, and does laps around the complex. If Mako is gonna stuff him up, he has to get in shape. Food is energy, so if he puts energy in the way to get rid of it, to take it out, it will be okay. It makes sense in his head, anyway. Around sunrise, he returns to their room, and slumps back into bed where a black mist descents over his eyes. If Mako's realized he was gone all night, his sleeping face doesn't show it. There is only salty tear tracks left on his brother's face. Bolin guesses- no, _knows_ it's his fault. He guesses he should care, but can't find the right feeling.

Mako has the problem. Not him. Mako.

_Flush/flush/flush_. He was wrong. Mako's toilet sounds just as mean from down the hall. It's calling out to him, whispering doubt and_ fatass_ and_ ugly,_ and _burden _and other horrible things. He wants to go and answer it, to prove it wrong with a food-filled stomach and regurgitate its insults back into it with a _haha, see I did it! See, look at me, who is the weak one, now? _But his bones ach from the five miles he lapped around the gym, and he's he too tired/tired/tired and he's afraid of waking Mako with his ugliness.

_In the morning, when Mako goes to work,_ he tells himself. _He will reward himself. In the morning._

When he wakes up, he's sprawled out in the middle of the hall, half way between their bedroom and the bathroom, with Mako shaking him insistently.

"Bolin! What happened? Are you hurt?" Mako's voice and frantic eyes make him wince in guilt. Mako shouldn't be seeing this. It's wrong. Wait, no, he meant embarrassing. There is nothing _wrong_ with what he's doing.

"'M' fine."

He's surprised how easy the words slip from his mouth. Mako doesn't look convinced at all, so he adds. "I slept walked. I forgot where I was, ya know." Which, in theory, could be true. He's done it enough times when he was little. But Mako knows a lie when he spots one.

"D'ya take a shower yet?" He probably needs five with how horrible he smells and feels. Like his ugliness and fat are clinging to his skin. Mako shakes his head and sits him up. "I'm not going into work today. I'm making breakfast. What do you want?"

_Shit._ Bolin freezes. "W-what?"

"I asked what you want for breakfast."

_ For you to leave me alone._

"I'm not hungry. I'm going to the gym." Mako blinks, mouth agape. "I'll get something later."

He tries to stand up, but falters, and Mako has to grab his shoulders to keep from falling over. The dried blood on his knuckles smears over Mako's hands.

He sits down and watches in torture as Mako rummages through the cabinets. "Don't try to deny that you were at the gym all last night."

"Then don't deny that you didn't stop me." he says back.

Mako stops then, and heaves a weary sigh. He hands grip the edge of the counter top with white knuckles. "What did you want me to do, Bolin? Drag you back here, kicking and screaming?" Mako sounds tired with worry.

"You've done it before."

Mako spins to look at him now. He runs a hand through his hair. "I can't help you," he says slowly, "if you aren't going to even try."

"Try for what, Mako?" He retorts, spreading his arms wide, "I don't have a problem! I'm not even doing anything!"

Mako clams his teeth hard and turns back to the food he's cooking. He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath.

"_What?"_

"'s nothing, Bo."

"Sure it is." Bolin just huffs and crosses his arms on the couch. He listens to the hiss of the bak choy frying and thinks of how the longest he can go until puking again.

He needs to buy more laxatives.

His thoughts are interrupted by a plate of food smacking down in front of him on the table. If Mako wants to play it that way, fine. He'll play. That doesn't mean he'll follow the rules.

He sees Mako take a slow, tentative bite of the bak choy and swallow. He takes a sip of water and clears his throat. "It's good." He says, motioning him to eat with a point of his chopstick. "Dig in, bro."

But Bolin can only think: _that's disgusting/how can Mako eat so easily/why was Mako doing this to him/flush/flush/flush/FLUSH_

His eyes dart to the bathroom door, and it swings open as if on it's own accord. The door flies off its hinges, and the toilet is there in all its white, shiny glory. It's laughing at him, laughing, and the water is hissing in a typhoon, threatening to drown him. It's says _come to me, Bolin. I'll make you feel better. _It's loud, so loud, and why doesn't Mako say anything? Why doesn't Mako make it go away?

"D-do you hear it?" He says, never taking his eyes off the door. He doesn't know if he wants an answer.

"Hear what?" When he turns his face back to his brother, Mako's brows are furrowed. "Hear what, Bolin?"

"I..." Spirits, maybe he _was_ crazy. "N-nothing. Nevermind."

Mako eyes him worriedly, then points to his full bowl once more. "C'mon, I made your favorite. Gotta keep your strength up for the ladies, huh?"

Bolin snorts. _What ladies would want me,_ he wants to ask.

He picks up his chopsticks in shaking hands now. Mako is watching him watching his plate of food-_and he can't._

The stare-down continues; him against the bak choy, and it's in the lead. Next to the bowl, is the menacing kamono chicken, seeping grease onto his plate. It's threatening to fatten him up with its skin-breaded carbs and buttery side of mashed potatoes.

He will lose his resolve. He will fail and get fat and, and his blood will turn to butter. He will fall right through the very earth. In his head, the whole cast of _Nuktuk _is laughing at him as he stuffs his face back stage and vomits all over a producer. He falls flat on his face and no one bothers to help him, not even Varrick. That was the day he started using the laxatives.

He doesn't even know why he can't. But he _cant. _He's too stupid, and clumsy, and Shady Shin and Viper and them are all making fun of him, saying how much of a burden he is to Mako and how Mako left him alone by himself on the streets and is never coming back. Mako is never coming back because he can't/do/anything/right-

_"Bolin."_

He eyes snap open and Mako is looking at him again. He feels pain in his hands and glances down; he's crushed his chopsticks to pieces inbetween his fingers, and splinters are sticking out in blooded bits.

He looks back up to Mako's concerned eyes.

"I'm not hungry."

Mako sucks in a breath and makes a big grimace. Bolin takes this time to get up from his chair, and make a bee-line for the door. But Mako says _oh, no, no way, sit_ _down!_ and catches him by the upper arm to stop him. Bolin hears the yelp come from his mouth before he realizes; because that hurt, and Mako would never hurt him, and now Mako looks scared/worried/pitiful/ and when-did-Mako-start-crying-because Mako DOESN"T cry...?

They stare at each other for a few silent seconds before Bolin shakily sits down.

"Bo..." Mako begins. "Why are you doing this?" A scared kind of worry twists Mako's voice, and a glob of something that must be hate gets stuck in his brother's throat. And Bolin still doesn't understand what anybody means, but as long as the toilet shuts up and he can go somewhere he can think, and he can go work out again, it will be okay/ because he is/ okay.

He is.

"You said you would try. You said you'd let me help." He sounds exasperated and spent, and his eyes are flickering.

Bolin wants to go to sleep.

"You said you've give me space," He counters. "The nurse said I didn't have to do eat anything that made me uncomfortable. She said not to push me-"

Mako's fist slams down on the table so hard he leaves singe marks. "That's a loud of _bullshit,_ Bolin, and you know it. Bo...You're an amazing person. You're a great bender, and lovable, strong, talented friend and brother, and...I love you. _I love you_ so much, Bolin. Please..." his voice is begging now."You gotta stop this, please...It's killing me to see you like this! It's killing me, Korra, Asami, everyone! Can't you see that?"

"Wrong answer, Mako! How about all the things I _suck_ at?!" He yells and Mako steps back. "Bending, getting girls, helping out in anyway when we were kids! I did _nothing_ for you!"

"You're my little brother, Bolin! I protected you because I love you! That's what family does; I didn't want you to have to suffer as much."

"I..." Whatever Bolin was going to say in defense, dies off, when Mako runs a hand over his teary eyes. "Mako...I'm sorry..." But is he?

_Is he?_

"Don't you see that you're making yourself sick?! Don't you see how you look?!" He exclaims.

"I'm f-".

_"No you're not!"_ Flames lick Mako's mouth and Bolin jumps.

"I...I'm not sick, Mako. I'm just trying to be healthy. I'm just trying to stop it."

"What are you trying to stop?" Bolin blinks at the question. It's the second time his brother has asked that in two days.

"I...don't know." Bolin mutters.

"You do, though." Mako steps closer. "Or you wouldn't have said it."

That bubbles something ugly up from Bolin's gut. It's like he's been punched in the face. Who did Mako think he was? His doctor?

Should he tell Mako? Should he tell him how sorry he is because he's such a burden? Should-

"Bro?"

He looks up.

"Please eat something. _Please._ And please keep it down, too. I can't stand to see you like this anymore," Mako is inches from him now, and is brushing the tears that fall from his green eyes. "I don't wanna have to send you away. Please don't have to let them send you away. Because I will if I have to." Mako voice raises now, and Bolin shakes his head back and forth in fear. "If...if you won't try for me...maybe...maybe being around other people going trough the same thing will help." Almost to himself Mako says this now. "Maybe the group home would have been the best thing for you..."

"No, Mako please! Don't send me away!" He cries. " I love you! Please-"

"Then try." He begs. "I don't want to have to. But if-"

"-I, I mean it's _hard." _Bolin cuts him off_. _"You don't get it_. _I just cant...I mean, I got out of the hospital _yesterday."_ He sits back down and huddle his knees in his under his chin. "I need some time."

Mako sighs again, and rubs a hand across his face. "Okay. Okay. What do you want to eat? Dumplings? I'll go get them for you. What do you want?"

"I don't feel well. I don't wanna eat right now." He kinda feels sick. Like he might vomit up his insides. Maybe he's just sick of himself.

Is that it?

"Bolin. You are eating something. This is not up for debate."

He wants to respond, but Mako is too close/ skin and bones/ can't can't.

_Flush._

_Flush._

_FLUSH._

He's breathing heavy now, clamping his hands over his ears so he doesn't have to hear it. He must have moaned or something, because Mako says his name in a very concerned way.

_"T-too loud..."_

"Bo? Bolin! Hey, talk to me!"

He is so fat for the world that he is spinning it, shaking it, and he can't keep his balance, can't even catch his _breath_ and-

_"Bolin!"_

There is a name being screamed (_Bolin? Who is Bolin? Surely not him. He is a glob, a slime, a mountain.)_ and the feeling of hands on his back, touching his fat, and _ugly_, and _burden,_ and _never good enough_, and he is laying on something soft (_maybe lard_) and when he opens his eyes-

Mako.

He opens his eyes, wearily, so see Mako's panicked face above him. His body is laying on the couch, and _why does he feel so cold?_

"B-Bolin?! Are you okay? Say something!"

He groans and tries to sit up. "Ahhh..._hurts..."_ Mako gently pushes him down again.

"What hurts?"

He blinks his eyes; everything is too bright.

"M-mako? What happened?"

"You fainted, Bo." Mako studies his face, his chest, anything. "What hurts? Are you okay?"

"No."

He most certainly does not feel 'alright' because everything aches and he is cold/cold/cold and _huuuunnnngrryyyy._ But he can't eat, _no, no_, he mustn't never eat unless the toilet tells him before hand.

"'m tried, M'ko." And his head lulls forward like a baby, and hits Mako's chest. Mako grips him tighter.

He watches Mako swallow, painful. "Will you please eat something? For me?"

He shakes his head. "I..._can't."_

In the end, Mako hugs him tight for an unknown time (maybe hours, or days) and then, somehow, in someway, the mashed potatoes are being spooned into his mouth, bit by bit, slowly, slowly, and he tries not to fight it ( he really does) but it _hurts_ and he _can't._

He clamps his mouth shut, and he's like a six year old again, feeling young and helpless, and the spoon is at his lips again, but he whimpers and shakes his head, _no more please, no more_ and Mako hugs him and gives him encouraging smiles and _yes, yes, you can do it, Bo, just a little more_, but he can't.

He shivers, feelings big and gross and he can't believe he ate. His resolve will crumble. He will lose it all. He is weak, a coward. He gave in. Mako hates him. Mako did this to him.

And damn it, he must have said that out loud because Mako's face looks so pained and he keeps whispering,_ no I love you I love you I love you so much_, but even they seem too heavy to hold.

Then, he can't keep his eyes open any longer. The last thing he hears is a broken voice saying, _You're gonna be alright, Bo._

But he doesn't want to be just 'alright'. Doesn't anyone understand? He just wants to feel okay.


End file.
